


you are a cinema (i could watch you forever)

by galaxytamer



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, M/M, is that a tag? thats a tag now. youre welcome america, movie theater AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-02-05 17:43:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1826716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxytamer/pseuds/galaxytamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But in particular, there’s a man with a nice face full of nice facial hair, who also has nice muscles and sometimes wears nice sweaters with thumb holes in them. It’s disgusting. And the kicker? He always sees the movies that Stiles is itching to see so he might be a little in love. He attempts small talk with the guy probably way too much for his own good -- he comes in on Mondays for the last showing of the night, when the theater is straight up empty -- but he’s never very receptive to it. Okay, Stiles knows that people hate when employees do that thing where they do their job and be courteous and friendly, but come on.</p>
<p>Doesn’t stop him from trying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you are a cinema (i could watch you forever)

Working at a movie theater has its perks, even when he has to work until one in the morning all weekend. Not only does he get to see all the movies, but he also pulls in some sweet discounts. Hello, Marvel movies are tearing it up lately, and he is a poor college kid with a thirst for all things explosion-y and featuring Chris Evans _and_ Scarlett Johansson. He has a completely valid excuse to see _Captain America: The Winter Soldier_ four times within a two week span. It’s basically his _job_.

If he’s closing, some nights he gets to take home _huuuuge_ bags of popcorn. Bags of popcorn that definitely requires more friends than he has to consume, but that doesn’t stop him from lugging two of them home, calling Scott up, and going hard. Still, he doesn’t think his dad will ever look at him the same after he walked in on Stiles laying in a bathtub in just his boxers while Scott poured an entire bag over him. It was for Science, alright. And who gets to say they literally bathed in popcorn? Not many, that’s for sure.

He probably still smells like popcorn. (Actually, confirmed: Scott comments on it _all_ the time.)

There’s also the occasional hot person that he occasionally gets to fumble his way through flirting with. Well, as much as he can flirt when he’s got his shirt tucked into his pants and he’s asking if they want extra butter on their popcorn and not to mention, movies are _generally_ considered a date-night kind of shindig. Whatever, people need to learn to be creative. And not put so much salt on their popcorn, like what the fuck, sodium intake much?

He sees all sorts of people come through. Families, herds of pre-teens that he can already tell are about to sneak into one of the R-Rated movies (really? Really.), old people who bank on the Senior Discount, mother-daughter duos, etc. Usually it’s the oldies who come in alone during matinee -- who else would see a movie by themselves? -- but there are a few younger people who stroll in early on $5 Tuesdays by their lonesome. He recognizes a few regulars, knows their orders by heart at this point.

But in particular, there’s a man with a nice face full of nice facial hair, who also has nice muscles and sometimes wears nice sweaters with _thumb holes_ in them. It’s disgusting. And the kicker? He always sees the movies that Stiles is itching to see so he might be a little in love. He attempts small talk with the guy probably way too much for his own good -- he comes in on Mondays for the _last_ showing of the night, when the theater is straight up empty -- but he’s never very receptive to it. Okay, Stiles knows that people hate when employees do that thing where they do their job and be courteous and friendly, but come on.

Doesn’t stop him from trying.

“Hello, how can I help you?” Stiles asks automatically, even though he knows the guy always gets a bottle of water and only sometimes orders Sour Skittles with it. It’s a weird order in his opinion, but he also thinks it’s kind of adorable. Maybe that’s just because he’s just generally associated him with _super fucking adorable_ , despite his habit of wearing leather jackets and not making eye contact.

“Just a water.”

Stiles resists the urge to snort, instead reaching down into the fridge and pulling out a bottle. “That’ll be 4.95,” he says, way beyond caring about how much of a rip-off movie theater concession stands are and why people buy into it, but when he puts the bottle down on the counter he doesn’t immediately release it.

“You know, I haven’t seen you around in a few weeks,” he says casually, leaning on the counter and propping his chin on his hand. He keeps his fingers wrapped around the bottle, even when the guy makes an aborted movement to reach for it. It’s late and absolutely, positively dead, so Stiles figures there’s no harm.

“There hasn’t been any movies to see,” the guy replies, and his tone of voice makes Stiles feel like he should’ve known that, and for some reason feel a little stupid, too.

“Very true. Seeing the new _X-Men_ , then? Or are you a _Maleficent_ kinda guy?”

“I’m seeing X-Men. Can I have my water?”

“Oh, yeah. My bad.” Stiles releases the bottle and instead grabs the five dollar bill. Despite the easy change, he’s slow about working the register. “By the way, what’s your name? I see you around here like all the time.” His voice trails off a little while he pulls out a nickel, eyes steady on the guy’s face, so he notices the hesitation.

“Derek,” he says after a moment.  

_Scoooore_. “Sweet. I’m Stiles.”

“I’m aware,” is the dry reply. Derek looks pointedly at the nametag on Stiles’ chest. Oh. Well. Haha. Smart guy.

“Are you also aware of common courtesy?” Stiles asks, dropping the change into Derek’s waiting palm (note: no thumb holes today) and raising his eyebrows at him. It’s _polite_ to say their names, even if they have nametags. Then again, maybe Derek isn’t too good with the whole manners thing.

“Not at all.” Derek puts the nickel back on the counter, pushing it back towards Stiles with a single, deliberate finger. “You can keep the change,” he adds, a small, infuriatingly smug smile turning his lips. Oh hell no. The sarcasm is oddly making him like the guy even more. Usually he gets overly offended if someone even _looks_ sarcastic.

“Wow, thanks,” he says, throwing the sarcasm right back at him. He leans on the counter again, grinning at Derek without teeth. “Enjoy your movie, _sir_.” Stiles picks up the nickel and drops it in the little pocket on the front of his shirt, giving the spot a pat. “Tell me how it is.” He’s already seen the movie, but hey, it’s an opening. A flirtatious, very smooth opening. Cosmo would be proud.

Derek seems vaguely amused at Stiles’ flirting, but nonetheless nods at Stiles as he turns and walks away. If Stiles fist pumps in victory, well, no one can confirm or deny it.

\----

Unfortunately, Stiles doesn’t work the next Monday, and Derek doesn’t show up the following. It’s disappointing, not only because he wants to see Derek, but also because Mondays are otherwise slow and ungodly boring. By the time the next Monday rolls around, Stiles is practically humming in anticipation to see if Derek will show up. When he notices him walk through the doors, Stiles immediately pushes Kira from the cash register.

“Stiles, what? This is where I’m supposed to be working right now--” she starts to say, eyes wide in a way that is adorable and definitely only something she can pull off, even at her age.

“Only for a second, okay? Trust me on this,” Stiles says. When Kira doesn’t move, arms crossed over her chest and staring up at him, he shifts frantically. “I owe you?” he offers, and that’s when she finally grins, big and bright, and flits off to go check on the popcorn. Under all that cute, wide-eyed charm, she is definitely evil. Stiles likes her a lot.

Derek approaches the counter at a saunter, and from the questioning look on his face (or questioning _eyebrows_ would probably better fit the description), he seems to have caught half of the exchange.  Stiles ignores that, instead launching into a greeting: “Hey, Derek. How’ve you been?”

Derek pauses, hands resting on the counter, and gives the menu a long look. _Wow_. As if he changes his order ever. Stiles deflates, but otherwise refuses to look away from Derek’s very ridiculous face. “Or I could just ask you what you want,” he practically sighs. “That’s cool, too.”

“I’ve been fine,” Derek says lightly, finally fixing his gaze on Stiles. “ _X-Men_ was good, but I liked _First Class_ better.”

Stiles blinks, and his brain finally catches up. Instead of showing surprise, he looks offended. “What? Dude, no. _First Class_ hardly even seems like an _X-Men_ movie. Not to mention there was way more Wolverine in this one, and you can never have too much Wolverine.” Stiles doesn’t include _also we saw Wolverine’s ass_ in his argument, even though logically that could’ve ended it. No one can argue about Dat Ass.

Derek’s lip twitches. “Everyone looked horrible. I’ve never seen a movie with such bad hair since _The Goblet of Fire_.”

“It was the _1970s_ , dude. What were you expecting?” Stiles shakes his head. “And don’t tell me you’re hating on all the leather jackets. I would’ve pegged you for a guy who likes leather.”

“Not brown leather.” Derek looks mildly offended.

“Yeah, alright. You’re wrong, but I’ll forgive you. What are you seeing tonight?” he asks, momentarily breaking eye contact to reach down and grab a bottled water, despite the fact that Derek hadn’t ordered yet.

“ _Godzilla_.” Derek quirks an eyebrow at Stiles when he puts the water on the counter, but otherwise doesn’t say anything else.

“Oh, that one’s good. Walter White is in it.”

“The actor?” Derek asks, tapping on the candy counter, and Stiles rolls his eyes as he pulls out the usual candy of choice. “No, literally Walter White. There’s a meth subplot and everything. It’s Oscar worthy.” He has to bite back a grin when Derek stills and looks a mixture of annoyed and resigned and even a little embarrassed. Stiles is immune to that expression; he gets it from everyone he knows at least once in the relationship.

“Shut up,” Derek finally says, sliding his money grumpily onto the counter, and Stiles can see just a hint of a blush on the tips of his ears. 

“Aw, I was just joking, big guy,” he teases as he gets the right change out for Derek and drops it in his waiting hand. “Enjoy your movie,” he adds with a wink, just to lay it on extra thick. Derek’s eyebrows flash upwards for a moment, but otherwise he gathers his things, nods at Stiles, and walks away.

Stiles watches him leave, leaning heavily on the counter and smiling softly.

“Wow, you’re not even subtle,” Kira pops up behind him, and Stiles definitely doesn’t flail and knock over the salt shaker. “You know we’re not supposed to flirt with customers, right?”

Stiles sighs as he sets the salt back, then turns dramatically to face Kira with crossed arms. “Yes, thank you. I am aware.”

Kira’s got a smile grin on her face, despite her chastising. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

Yeah, this is definitely why he likes her. He returns her grin, offering a fist for a knuckle touch. “Deal.”

\----

From then on, when Kira’s working with him, _she’s_ the one who seems to always be watching the entrance like a hawk, and _she’s_ the one who pushes Stiles towards the cash register, even when he’s in the middle of making more popcorn or restocking the candy shelf. Stiles thinks Derek notices, because if he’s not subtle about things, Kira is like, ten times worse. He’s pretty sure that once she said “ _Stiles, he’s coming, go go go!_ ” loud enough that every one in the entire goddamn lobby heard it, but whatever. Everyone’s gotta have a wingman, even if said wingman is blatantly obvious (and says “ _Hi Derek!_ ” even though technically Derek never introduced himself to her. At least, he thinks? Maybe not? That’d be a development).

“Hey Stiles, do you work tomorrow?” Kira asks once when Derek approaches the counter, and from the devious little gleam in her eye, Stiles can already tell she’s about to be totally Not Subtle. He makes some weird motions with his hands to convey _shut up_ , but Kira ignores them and just smiles expectantly.

“Nooo, Kira. I don’t. Why do you ask?” he replies in a slightly strained voice. Derek stops at the counter and looks curiously between them.

“No reason, I was just wondering. Oh! Hey Derek,” she adds, barely missing a beat, and Derek smiles at her. She moves down the counter to mess with the nacho cheese machine, fiddling with it and making noise, but Stiles can see her glancing at them from the corner of her eyes. And people give _him_ shit about not being sneaky. Jeez.

Regardless, he ignores her, instead smiling at Derek, who only looks amused. Ah, hell. Here goes nothing.

“You know, I don’t work tomorrow.” He starts, and Derek’s lips twitch like he wants to smile again. “And since I obviously don’t see enough of this place, I was wondering if you’d go see a movie. With me. Like, on a date.”

“Like, on a date?” Derek echoes dryly. “Your delivery is just as smooth as the first time you hit on me.”

Stiles licks his lips and doesn’t even bother to look sheepish. Part of that is Kira’s fault, alright. “But it worked? It totally worked, didn’t it?”

“That depends. Do you get a discount on ticket prices?”

He leans closer to Derek and smirks conspiratorially. “I think I could pull some strings for a pretty face.”

“Then it looks like I need your phone number.”

“Oh, of course.” Stiles glances around to make sure no manager is around, and then pulls his phone from his pocket and hands it over to Derek. Derek types his number in and then slides it back across the counter. He pockets it, and then finally grabs a water from the fridge for Derek. “I’ll just text you. When I’m off work, obviously. Because I’m a good employee.”

“The best,” Derek replies easily, giving him the money. He looks over at Kira, and Stiles glances over too, both catching her staring blatantly.

She smiles a little too widely, looking a little frantic and startled. As if she’s surprised at being caught. “Yay?” she offers as an explanation, gesturing at them.  

Stiles snorts and looks back at Derek. “Yeah, you’re right about that. Yay.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> unbeta'd cause i aint give a fuck
> 
> you best bet im gonna write some sort of sequel where theres illegal blowjobs in the back row of the theater
> 
> also poor derek hale, seeing movies all by his lonesome. thats so sad. this is the saddest thing ive ever written


End file.
